Great Expectations
by MaddHatta21
Summary: His mother expected a great deal of him. He was to grow up quickly, become the government and marry well. It wasn't what he wanted at all. No, Mycroft Holmes wanted something different, and his saving grace came not from the odd letter he had received, but from a young girl who saw in him what his mother could not. MYCROFT OC AU
1. Chapter 1

_What greater aspiration and challenge are there for a mother than the hope of raising a great son or daughter?_  
_ -Rose Kennedy_

* * *

**A Prologue (sort of)**

Violet Holmes had great aspirations for her middle child Mycroft.

He was to be the keeper of his, rather unruly, younger brother Sherlock.

He was to take a high rank in the government.

He was to make a great deal of money.

Later he would marry well and bring honer to the Holmes household.

In fact, Violet had mapped out Mycroft's entire life for him, and a mother's word was law.

Mycroft, at the tender age of eleven, was well aware of this fact.

His life would not be his own, but instead a way of bringing his mother the reputation she so desired.

Despite all her plans and interferences in Mycroft's life, Violet Holmes did not know her son.

Her orders had always been sent to him by some maid or other; and, as far as Mycroft was concerned, the may well have been coming from Violet's locked bedroom door rather than the woman herself.

Mycroft rarely ever saw his mother.

His older brother Sherrinford, with his innings and outings of the office of the late Siger Holmes, saw even less of their mother than Mycroft himself did.

In fact even the maids and servants, who had their hands full enough already with the whims of both their mistress and her youngest son Sherlock, barely had time to attend to the eleven year old.

So it was, that on a quiet evening in July, Mycroft found himself alone in the family library.

Mycroft was quite used to being alone.

His father had always taught him that caring about others was a disadvantage. That aloness was the best advantage to be had, and yet, sitting alone amongst the dank and dusty volumes, Mycroft Holmes could not help feeling disappointed.

It was a loud rap on the third story window that caught his attention, and a tawny brown barn owl that kept it.

The young Mr. Holmes flung open the window, not missing that the creature bore with it a letter of a most peculiar sort.

The bird flew in and landed on the wooden arm of the reading chair.

Mycroft approached it, and very carefully removed its package.

_Dear Mr. Holmes, _

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

Yours sincerely,  
Albus Dumbuldore  
Deputy Headmaster  



	2. Chapter 2

Since the day Mycroft had received the letter, it had been sitting amongst the dusty collection of maps spread out on the library table.

Mycroft didn't believe in magic, and never had.

Magic was not logical, it did not exist.

Magic was nothing more than the fantasy of fools.

This is why the letter was left there forgotten.

At least until the morning of August 31.

Mycroft had been given orders to call on the Hartley estate, regarding the matter of an unpaid debt to the late Siger Holmes.

Upon knocking on the front door of the shabby little hovel, a number of things that could happen had crossed Mycroft's mind, he had prepared himself for all of them.

Mycroft Holmes was not, however, prepared for what befell him when the door swung open.

A large and well used wooden trunk came flying out the door so quickly, that Mycroft had no time to react, the chest hit him square in the face.

The last thing Mycroft heard before losing consciousness was "Blimey Jim! You killed the grifter!"

* * *

When Mycroft woke up it was to the sound of whispering.

_"Oi! Keep your voice down Tim! You'll wake 'im up!"_

_"Well, what's the big deal anyway? He's a grifter ain't he?"_

_"We don't know that."_

Two boys, probably around his age by the sound of it, were arguing with strange accents nearby.

_"Don't be such a twit Jim, lookit those clothes! He's either here to chisel us, or he's a pill."_

Mycroft very nearly flinched at the sound of the added female voice. Ladies most certainly did NOT speak in such a manner, but then again, assuming the girl had grown up in this shabby hut it shouldn't have surprised him that she spoke like her brothers.

He knew that they were her brothers, of course, for two reasons; the first was that they all had the exact same terrible accent, and the second was that he had heard Sherrinford mention the Hartley family before.

Two boys and a young girl, all living in a two bedroom shack with their father, Micheal Hartley.

"_Blimey! I think he's wakin' up!"_

_"Hope he ain't a wack, man!"_

_"Tim, Jim knock it off, 'fore he hears us!"_

_"Whatsa matter Lu 'Fraid he won't be sweet on ya?"_

_"Oh Go fly a kite Jimmy!"_

Almost the very instant that Mycroft opened his eyes Mycroft regretted it.

Not only did the sunlight nearly blind him, but it added to his already growing migraine.

The girl's apologetic look was the first thing he saw once his vision adjusted, "Sorry about that, mate."

She offered him a hand up, and instead of taking it Mycroft scowled, the girl was dressed in trousers and a cap, and she looked nothing like a lady at all.

"Awww lookit that Tim! Lu's got it bad."

"Coulda told ya that Jim."

The girl called Lu, or Laura according to Sherriford, wheeled around "OI! Shut yer traps ya bloody Jelly beans!"

"Jeeze Lu, don't blow yer wig..." Jim chuckled.

"Yeah we was just goofin' around..." Tim added.

Laura responded with a low hiss "I oughta knock the both of ya into next week!"

When she turned back to Mycroft, it was with the most charming smile she could muster.

By that time, of course, Mycroft was on his feet and brushing himself off.

He got right to business, "I am here to see Mr. Micheal Hartley."

Laura raised an eyebrow, "Sorry, who'd ya say you were?"

Mycroft didn't like the attitude the girl was directing at him, so he returned it full force with a very snide "My name is Mycroft Holmes, and I've come to collect the debt your father owes Ms. Hartley, now will you fetch him or shall I fetch him myself?"

Laura snorted, "Down right fulla yourself ain't cha Mr. Holmes?"

She might have continued if Tim hadn't smacked her upside the head.

He gave her a look that clearly said 'what the hell Laura! You'll make it worse for da'.

Laura took a deep breath, then tried her best to appear apologetic "Sorry Mr. Holmes, but our Da ain't in, he's um... workin'"

Mycroft didn't buy it for an instant, "Is that so? Might I inquire as to _where?_"

"He's teaching at the schoolhouse, if you really gotta know," Laura tried her best to keep the snark out of her words.

Mycroft didn't bother, "Is that so? A teacher is he? Might I inquire as to which _subject_?"

He knew she was not being entirely honest, and he wanted answers; he hadn't quite expected the flash of anger in her eyes.

Laura was well aware that this boy was too keen for his own good, he was challenging her. He had been underestimating her from the moment he had opened his mouth. Hartley's never backed down from a challenge.

Jim spoke up at the same time as Laura "History!" he called out.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Laura said arrogantly.


End file.
